


Broken Glass

by Umeko



Series: Orden Tales [1]
Category: Trinity Blood
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mind Control, Mind Games, Psychological Torture, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 06:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umeko/pseuds/Umeko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU or what happened if Astaroshe and Abel didn’t show up in time to save Ion’s ass when Radu (under Dietrich's influence) confronted him on the roof.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Trinity Blood and its characters DO NOT belong to me. Strictly speaking, I am not sure whether my characters can even be considered canon. 
> 
> Warning for coarse language, yaoi and involuntary rape? Radu x Ion, or is it Dietrich x Ion? Slight Suleyman x Radu 
> 
> I was feeling a little perverse when I wrote this several years back. This was originally posted on fanfiction.net and removed for being too explicit.

He never really thought about it until recently. When had that friendship soured for him? Was it when twelve-year-old Ion turned before he did and left him behind? Or was it when his own father offered young Radu to the duke for his plaything? It was a common enough practice among the lower nobles, using their offspring to secure rank and status. Ion never knew. He had gone off to attend the ImperialAcademy, innocent and blissfully ignorant, while poor Radu Barvon suffered the indignities of being Suleyman’s whore. 

The Fortunas were the cream of the nobility, a clan favoured by the Empress. His early friendship with Ion was carefully engineered by his elders. He was Ion’s companion, no, more a servant. He was to pick up after Ion, be Ion’s whipping boy… They were never meant to be friends. Yet, it had happened. Then Ion turned…

_A penny for your thoughts, Flameberg…_

_Fuck off._ The Marionettespieler was back to torment him, prying and poking into his thoughts. How long has it been? Dietrich kept him a prisoner, often denying him the very awareness of his surroundings. Radu had no idea where he was or what he was doing. Trapped inside his own body, Radu curled up the best he could. Disgust washed over him at what Dietrich put him through earlier. He felt filthy.

 _Still sore? Tut-tut. You haven’t been sleeping with him for a while, haven’t you? After all the good duke has done for you Barvons…_ Radu groaned. Suleyman had been gentle with young Radu when they were together. Radu accepted his sleeping with the duke was a trade-off for the benefits Suleyman bestowed on his family. Suleyman also groomed him for a career in the imperial court, which was far more than what other nobles did for their playthings. Most such playthings were discarded like trash once they lost their novelty.

Their affair ceased when Radu turned eighteen but Suleyman still mentored him throughout his studies at the Academy, until he was able to fend for himself in the imperial court, or so Radu thought. Falling in with the Orden was the largest mistake of his brief career. And the worst part was dragging his clueless benefactor down with him.

 _You used MY body to trick him!_ Radu shuddered. Radu had to admit now. He loved Suleyman one would a father, not a lover.

 _Nonsense, I gave him some much needed relaxation to take his mind off the task at hand._ Dietrich smirked. The duke had summoned Radu to his private study to discuss their plans. He had serious doubts. Dietrich couldn’t allow that. A few well-placed kisses and caresses later, the duke was more interested in coupling with his protégé than discussing his misgivings.

_He’s a skilful lover, Radu. You have no idea how lucky you are…_

_Shut up!_ Radu screamed silently. His, no Dietrich’s, actions were almost incestuous. A prisoner in his own body, he could only watch helplessly as Suleyman made passionate love to him on his writing table. Unable to speak out, unable to warn him of the imminent danger he now knew. The Orden didn’t care to see their rebellion succeeded…

 _There, there… look who we have here…_ Dietrich suddenly allowed him to see. The light almost blinded him after being in darkness for so long. He saw a blond head bowed low, the fight having left the body.

 _Ion, no, no…_ Radu groaned. They were outside a rooftop hothouse. Ion’s hands were pinioned above his head by Radu, so that his boot-toes barely touched the slates. One of Radu’s claws still dug into Ion’s bleeding and burnt thigh. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move to release Ion. Dietrich laughed, mocking their helplessness.

_Aren’t we having fun now?_

_Let him go!_

_Why should a little runt like him mean so much to you? Ahhh… I see…_ Radu winced as Dietrich tore into the most hidden parts of his mind. _He means that to you… how frustrated you must be, Flamberg, that he only sees you as a mere friend._

 _NO!_ Radu lied. Dietrich was right. When had it happened? From childish friendship to secret, unfulfilled love… Had his feelings towards Ion been soured by the act Ion only saw him as a friend? That he could never profess his love…

 _Love? Don’t be naïve, Barvon. You lust for him. You want to plunder that delicious body …_ Dietrich let his words hang ominously.

 _That is a lie!_ Radu retorted. Then he read Dietrich’s twisted plans for Ion. _No, please don’t! I beg you…_

_Why, Barvon. I’m doing you a favour, since you are too lily-livered to show the runt how you really feel. He’ll find it an eye-opener. Who knows? You’ll probably enjoy taking it for a change, I know I would enjoy every moment of it…_

The searing pain in Ion’s thigh dulled to a throb as his body healed. Nothing mattered anymore. _His best friend has turned against him. Esther probably hates him. No worry there though. That annoying little girl will probably help her escape from the city._ What could he do?He was wanted for murder and treason and he no longer has his Grandmother to flee to. The Yeniceri probably had orders to kill him on sight after his resisting arrest. He was no match for Radu. He had no way to warn the Empress. He was going to be killed by his childhood friend and the chance to save the Empress would die with him.

 _What?_ He was thrown forcibly through the glass, into the greenhouse behind him.

Ion gasped in pain as shards of broken glass lacerated his face, limbs and back. He landed on a sea of glass fragments, stunned. Radu stepped through the gaping hole in the glass wall. On his face was a look that both terrified and fascinated the smaller Methuselah. He froze like a bird mesmerized by a weasel.

The logic prevailed and Ion turned to flee. Chuckling softly, his pursuer seized his ankle. Using his larger bulk, he wrestled Ion onto his hands and knees among the glass.

 _Leave him be!_ Radu fought desperately against his unseen bonds. His insides twisted. He could see and feel what he was doing to Ion. Yet he could not stop his hand from groping Ion. Dietrich laughed evilly.

 _You’ll be gentle with him, wouldn’t you, Flamberg?_ Dietrich gave a wicked grin as he yanked Ion’s shorts to his knees. 

The feel of cool air hitting his now exposed butt made Ion gasp. He gasped even louder when he felt Radu rubbing against him from behind. A hand seized his member and stroked it roughly. “Radu… what are you… doing?” Fear, disbelief and outrage… then pleasure? A kaleidoscope of sensations washed through Ion Fortuna as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Radu was touching him among the broken glass and greenhouse roses. No, more than simply touching. Surely a mere touch couldn’t make him ache like that?

“Radu, what are you doing to me?” Ion made no further effort to flee, fight or even scream for help.

“You do know, don’t you?” Radu purred into his ear and nipped it gently. Ion shuddered. It felt almost enjoyable. This was too surreal.

Some distant part of his mind screamed it was wrong. But how could anything that felt so good be wrong? Ion gasped as skilled hands teased his nipples through his starched tunic, then yanking it completely open before rolling him over for a kiss. He had heard of such things before, where men joined with men as they would with a woman. It was one of those things that were whispered about in the Academy.

 _Ion! Run! It isn’t me!_ The real Radu screamed in vain. Dietrich was skilful, in many ways. Too skilful for one as inexperienced as Ion. Despite being the same age as Radu, Ion was not known to have had any sexual experiences whether with males or females. Mirka cloistered him from an early age, preventing him from developing any undesirable liaisons that could blight a bright career. Already, Dietrich’s ministrations had reduced Ion to a quivering mess.

 _Just enjoy the ride, Barvon._ Dietrich purred.

He could smell Ion’s scent, a heady mix of talc, peppermint and sweat, tinged by the musk of sex. He could feel Ion writhing under him, slender hands caressing his chest. Ion was tiny, childlike. The skin of his exposed chest supple and soft. Ion was too far gone for logical thought. Ignoring the glass stabbing through his tunic and into his back, the blond reached out to his soon-to-be rapist, pulling him in and prolonging their kiss. Ion’s legs wound themselves about Radu’s waist instinctively, grinding crotch to crotch. Radu moaned as he stiffened involuntarily. Dietrich sniggered. _Aren’t we having fun?_

_Ion… I’m sorry…_

_Playtime’s over._ Dietrich grinned broadly as he undid the front of Radu’s pants and seized Ion roughly about the knees.

“Radu?” Ion gasped as the haze of desire momentarily cleared. He saw the predatory look on Radu’s face and _that_. “Radu, I’ve never done this before… I’m not ready…” Ion tried to scoot backwards.

“I know, but I am.” Pain. Tearing, splitting pain as he was roughly mounted, pummelled and impaled. Ion sucked in a breath to scream from the sheer agony but a hand clapped roughly over his mouth. “If you scream, slut, what do you think they will see when they come running? Ion Fortuna, rutting about like a common whore. What will your granny dear say? So keep quiet.”

Fearfully, Ion nodded. The suffocating hand was removed. He gritted his teeth as the assault on his body continued. _This wasn’t Radu. Radu would never use him like that… This must be some bad dream… Or maybe Ion Fortuna has finally lost his mind…_ He lay there, limp as a discarded doll.

Radu wept and cursed. He could see the fear and pain in Ion’s crimson eyes, feel the slickness of Ion’s blood on his flesh but he was powerless. He scraped wildly, trying to regain control of his body. It happened suddenly. Busy taking out his twisted perversions on Ion, Dietrich let his guard down. While Dietrich savoured the bloody warmth of the blond noble around him, Radu seized hold of a string, then another…

He was weak, there were too many bonds tying him to Dietrich’s control… He had only one chance.

Ion sobbed as he felt something warm fill him. He had been raped. Raped by his best friend…

 _What the hell?_ Dietrich growled. Radu wrested control away, pulled away from Ion, and drew his sword. Dietrich was still recovering from his pleasure to stop him. Ion sat up, bewildered. Something had happened to Radu. The monster that violated him was gone.

“I’m sorry… I-Ion… I’m sorry I hurt you… Stop them, save the Empress!” Radu raised the sword high and drove it into his heart with all the strength he could muster.

“NO!” Ignoring his own injuries, Ion crawled over to where his rapist, his betrayer and his friend lay in a pool of blood. This was not happening. “Don’t die, Radu… I’ll get a doctor and everything will be alright… We’ll pretend all this never happened…”

“No, Ion… It’s too late for me…to go back…” Radu spluttered on his own blood. His vision was fading. This time, his death would be permanent. His consciousness was drifting away from Dietrich’s strings. “Ion… I never meant to hurt you… I-I… love… y-you,” he kissed the tear-streaked cheek of the noble cradling him before dying.

“No, no, no…” Ion gently eased Radu to the floor and closed his eyes. He straightened his garments the best he could and stepped out through the hole in the glass wall. His body still ached from the encounter… but the healing had started. The sky was still the same. The streets below still the same… The events of the past half-hour too unreal…

“Count! You had us worried!” Lady Astaroshe and Abel. The duchess was the first to reach him. “What happened?” she took in Ion’s rumpled and torn clothes, streaked in places with blood.

“Radu… he…killed himself…” _after raping me._ “Stabbed himself in the heart… The body is inside…” Ion sobbed. Cautiously, Lady Asran ventured into the greenhouse. The priest steadied a shaky Ion.

“WHAT BODY?” A bellow shook the greenhouse. Ion peered in. Besides the copious amounts of blood and shattered glass, there was no sign of any body.

“T-that’s impossible- I don’t understand… he died in my arms… Radu!” Ion howled and fell to his knees. He felt his ass ache, a fresh reminder of what happened. _Was it real or a delusion?_ The last strands of his sanity snapped.

In the street below, Dietrich smirked. He was not done with his puppet yet, not by a long shot. And may the good baron burn in hell or wherever dead vampires go to.

 

**_Six months later, Fortuna mansion._**

“Father Abel and Queen Esther send their regards. Any improvements?” Imperial Ambassador Astaroshe Asran asked.

The duchess of Moldova shook her head sadly. The older woman looked wan, small wonder considering what she had sacrificed for the Empire. The attempted rebellion was successfully crushed, the Empress safe, yet she was paying the price for her gross miscalculation. Ion hadn’t been the same since they found him outside that broken greenhouse. They never knew what happened for Ion never spoke about it. Some days he would cower in a corner of his room, weeping and speaking to no one. Some days he could be violent and scream abuse at everyone and anyone. This was one of his better days, where he regressed to the happier times of his boyhood.

“Grandma! Is Radu here yet? He promised we’ll fly kites…” Ion skipped into the parlour, dragging a length of tangled string behind him. A broken kite jerked about at the end.

“Later, Ion. Radu will come along later today,” Mirka lied. “Go ask Mirvena to read you a story. Run along now, Grandma is busy.” Ion smiled, nodded and skipped off.

Instead of seeking out his nurse, Ion crept into the study. “Radu?” He seemed to remember having lessons with Radu there. He yanked open the drawers of the writing desk. His grandfather’s sword-shaped letter-opener was in the very top one. Ion picked it up gingerly. _Of course._ He remembered it all. _No use pretending. Radu’s dead. He’s not coming._

_Where do dead Methuselahs go, Radu?_

Sitting back on the settee where they once read picture books together, Ion Fortuna smiled and angled the sharp blade towards his heart…


End file.
